Watching
by accio.awesomeness
Summary: He watched her, she watched him. What neither of them knew was that they were BOTH being watched. The twins plot revenge on Hermione's behalf and George ends up getting the fruits of their labour. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**All right guys, a George/Hermione fic! IMPORTANT: This is set after DH. There was no law saying that those who did not complete seventh year must return; they were simply given an option, and Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George chose to accept. IMPORTANT: Ron is pretty OOC in this. I did not intend to write him that way but my fingers went crazy typing this, I don't know how it happened, really. It's like my keyboard forced me into it, not the other way around. ALSO IMPORTANT: This story will come in two parts. This is the first, and the second will be posted on Monday - IF I get at least five reviews. If I get ten, I'll post on Sunday. And if I get MORE, I'll post on Saturday. So tell your friends to R&R! Thanks x**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, now would I?**

* * *

"All right there, Granger?" a voice asked. A red-head sat down next to her, uncomfortably close, and another one squashed himself against her other side.

"Piss off, Fred, George," she snapped, her quill almost burning a hole in the parchment.

"Gods, you can't possibly be doing homework. It's the first day back!" Fred exclaimed, stretching his arms above his head.

"It's a letter, knucklehead," George told him. "Who're you writing the novel to, Hermione?" he asked her.

"Viktor," she replied brusquely.

"_Krum_?" came the incredulous cry.

"Honestly, the two of you are more similar to Ronald than you care to admit. It is absolutely no business of yours what I am writing and if you do not have a valid reason for interrupting my letter-writing, I suggest you move away, now. Furthermore, I'd like to point out that just because neither of you bothers writing more than your bloody order forms, it doesn't mean that everyone else does the same.

"Now, if you would please remove your arses from this seat before I do so forcefully," she finished politely, a little pink in the cheeks from her rant.

The twins shared a look, simultaneously sliding even closer. "Aaah… since when does Granger have an attitude?"

She'd had enough. "It developed somewhere between my parents disowning me and Ronald dumping me with the words 'ugly slag' tossed in," she snapped, somewhat bitterly. She snatched up the parchment and stormed upstairs, leaving a confused Fred and a livid George behind.

And unfortunately for him, Ron happened to enter the common room at that very minute.

"I'm going to bloody _kill_ –" George snapped, lunging in his brother's direction. Fred grabbed him and held him back until he lost his balance and fell back onto the sofa.

"He's your brother," Fred reminded him.

"He's also a bloody git," George snarled, struggling against Fred's hold.

"Yes, we established that a while back," Fred said with a roll of his eyes. His face hardened as he remembered Hermione's words. _My parents disowning me and Ronald dumping me with the words 'ugly slag' tossed in_. "I can't deny that I'd like to sock him one, but Mum would kill us. We'll get our revenge another way," Fred reassured his twin. George finally stopped struggling and slumped back into the sofa cushions.

"Fuck," he said angrily. "Her parents actually disowned her? Merlin, that must've been so painful…"

"Yeah, she'd modified their memories before going on the Horcrux hunt, remember? She must have removed the charm. They couldn't've been too happy. But I don't understand… I mean, I get Ron dumping her – wait, wait!" Fred cried at George's darkening expression. "Not because she's not worth it, but because Ron's always been stupid that way; ditching the best things he has." Appeased, George leaned back into the sofa.

"Why on earth would he call her a slag? If anyone, _Lavender's_ the slag."

"Maybe he couldn't think of a better insult?" Fred suggested.

"Yeah, he's never exactly been fruitful in the creativity department…" George mused.

"Whatever the reason, we need a plan. It has to be good, it has to be embarrassing, it has to-"

"Target Ron and Lavender's relationship," George said suddenly. Fred grinned at his twin.

"Excellent." The two put their head together and started to plot.

* * *

"So, George," Fred said conversationally as they lay in their beds.

"Hmm?" George asked absently, staring at the wood of the bed and thinking about how Hermione's eyes were exactly that colour when she was sad.

"When exactly did you realise that you fancied young Miss Granger?"

George sat bolt upright. "What the hell? I don't!"

"Relax, Lee's sleeping," Fred said with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh." George considered for a moment, and then the need to tell his twin won out. Fred would find out eventually, anyway. "Sometime during the summer after the war. I saw her and Ron holding hands and I realised – I wanted to be Ron. No, that's wrong. More like, I didn't want _him_ holding her hand."

"Is that why you constantly pestered her over the summer holidays to go flying with you?"

"Yeah."

"And why you jumped at the chance to go back to Hogwarts? Especially since you knew you could arrange for yourself and Hermione to be seated together in the car?"

"Yeah," George said again, blushing slightly.

"And why you almost threw Ron out of the window earlier?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Then you know what to do, right?" Fred asked, pulling his blankets up a bit higher. George sighed and looked away from the ceiling to face his twin, a grin spreading over his face.

"Use the twin charm," he and Fred said at the same time. He reached out a hand and Fred shook it twice before reaching a bit further to ruffle George's hair.

"Attaboy. Now get some sleep. You'll want to be all fresh and sunshiney for Hermione tomorrow," Fred said in amused tones.

Too tired and angry with Ron to throw a pillow at his twin, he simply rolled over, focusing on a little black spot on the mahogany which, if he stared enough, could look like Hermione's eye. With thoughts of mahogany and chocolate brown colouring his thoughts, he fell asleep, dreaming of pummelling Ron.

And when he woke up, he had an idea.

* * *

Hermione yawned and stretched, She had cried herself to sleep the previous night and the tears had covered her face with a sticky coating. Making a face, she stumbled to the bathroom to wash. Splashing water on her face, she surveyed her reflection.

Deep, dark half-circles under her eyes, which were a mahogany brown rather than their usual chocolate. She was pale and sweat was beading on her forehead. She attributed the weakness to skipping dinner and stripped off, stepping into the warm water of the shower with a sigh of relief.

It wasn't often she cried herself to sleep, but something about Fred and George's incessant attempts to pry had broken something within her. She had cried, yes, when Ron had done that. She had almost hurt herself after her parents disowned her; it took Ginny strapping her down and confiscating her wand to stop her. In the end, it really was Ginny who had helped her through it, Ginny and Harry.

Hermione had expected Harry to be on Ron's side, but he'd taken to avoiding Ron just as much as she had. When she asked him why, he'd replied that, "Ron's got this constant parade of sluts following him around. It's disgusting. And some of them try to chat me up, like they've forgotten I'm dating Ginny. And besides –" he had turned, looking her in the eyes. "What he did to you was wrong, Hermione. I can't let it go. I'm sick of siding with him because I needed a guy friend. I've had enough of his bullshit. He messed around with you for… what, four years?" He'd smiled at her, a real _Harry_ smile, something he only reserved for his closest friends. "I'll always be on your side, 'Mione."

She had broken down in tears, of course, but having been around a very tearful, angry Ginny after Ron had dumped Hermione, Harry was better equipped this time. He had conjured a tissue and handed it to Hermione, stroking her back until she calmed down.

Three months later, Hermione found that she really could not care less about Ron, or what he thought, or about his parade of sluts. He could bloody go and jump off the Astronomy Tower if he felt like it. But her parents, _that_ she was still sore about. After numerous letters without replies, several hung up phone calls and even a couple of failed visits (she had tried Apparating once and her parents had simply ignored her), she gave up.

The Weasleys were her family now and she was more grateful than ever to them for taking her in. She and Harry were alike in that respect; they both had been adopted by the Weasley family. _Molly Weasley's generosity is incredible. Seven children and she takes on two more,_ Hermione thought as she brushed her teeth. Shrugging into her school uniform, she stepped out of the bathroom and met Harry and Ginny in the common room. They set off to the Great Hall, not one of them missing a beat when they spotted Ron wrapped around yet _another_ girl wanting a piece of "one of the saviours of the wizarding world".

"… so then Parvati told me that she'd ran into Seamus last Thursday in Diagon Alley and apparently he's grown into a real looker and _is single_, and she wanted to know if you were interested, Hermione," Ginny was saying. "Hermione?" she prompted when the brown-haired witch didn't answer. Ginny leaned around her to see what she was staring at, but all she saw was the twins.

"What's she staring at?" Harry asked Ginny from the corner of his mouth.

"Twins, I _think_," Ginny said uncertainly. Harry looked concerned.

"You don't think they did something, do you?" he whispered. "I mean, inadvertently brought up something that hurt her?"

Ginny surveyed her friend from the side and leaned closer to Harry to whisper in his ear. "She looks like she cried last night. I've seen that pale skin and dark circles combination before."

"Who was she talking to last night before sleeping, then?" Harry asked, brow furrowed as he tried to remember.

"It's on the tip of my tongue. I remember seeing her with some people from the corner of my eye, but we were… otherwise engaged," she said, blushing slightly. Harry blushed a little too, at the memory of what had been distracting them.

"All I can remember is – red blobs," he said thoughtfully.

"Red blobs?" Ginny questioned. And her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. "You don't think…" she leaned closer to Harry again, "… Ron _said_ something, do you? Tried to apologise, or maybe went to insult her further?"

"No, there were definitely _two_ red blobs," he reassured his girlfriend. As much as he was annoyed with Ron at the moment, he didn't fancy the idea of pulling his girlfriend off his ex-best friend.

"Fred and George," Ginny realised. "But what do you think they said?"

"She was writing a letter to Viktor and they probably asked who it was to, just like Ron did in fifth and sixth year. She must have snapped at them, they must have teased, she must have broken down," Harry deduced. Ginny kissed his cheek, impressed by his deduction abilities.

She turned back to Hermione just in time to see her tilt her head and mouth something at them. They were looking at her too and she nodded slightly before remembering Harry and Ginny.

"Sorry, guys," she murmured, grabbing a piece of toast and shoving a fried egg and some bacon rashers in before folding it up. She took a bite of her hastily made sandwich before continuing. "George and Fred wanted to tell me something. I got distracted," she admitted.

"Erm… what?" Harry asked, confused.

"A form of Legilimency," Hermione explained wearily. "It only allows communication between minds for a limited amount of time and the people involved can only see the thoughts that they want their counterparts to see."

"They invented it themselves?

"George and Fred invented it, yes. A rather amazing bit of magic, really. I should've gotten used to it by now, but somehow, I haven't."

Ginny and Harry shared a look, but for different reasons (although they didn't know that). Harry was thinking how odd and insane it would be if Hermione became a prankster. Ginny was wondering why Hermione had said "George and Fred". Most everyone she knew called her brothers "Fred and George".

"What's the incantation?" Harry asked quickly before the silence got too long.

"_Pusillimi Videre_," Hermione told him. "It can be used for a group of any number of people. You know, the Order could have used it if it had been invented sooner, to communicate during battle."

"You said it's a variation of Legilimency, how come it doesn't sound anything alike? The spell, I mean."

"_Legilimens_ means 'the law of the mind' in Latin. _Pusillimi Videre_, however, is short for _pusilli animi videre_, which means "see a small mind", or "allow me to see a small part of the mind"," Hermione recited in her usual dictionary tone. "Legilimency gives the user of the spell the ability to see anything and everything in a person's mind, whereas the one George and Fred used – let's call it Thought Sharing – only lets the user see what their opposite wants them to see."

Slightly stunned as to the extent of Hermione's knowledge – _I should've gotten used to it by now_, Harry thought with a smile, quoting Hermione's earlier words – the trio carried on to Potions.

Slughorn was already in class by the time they entered, but as the three of them were by no means the last, he let it go and went back to describing the properties and ingredients of a Jealousy Potion. No one noticed a pair of redheaded twins point their wands at Hermione, simultaneously muttering, "_Pusillimi Videre_."

"_Hey, Hermione." _She jumped, and they grinned at her from across the room.

"_Can you _not_ distract me in class? This is sure to come up in our NEWTs," _she thought back in annoyed tones.

"_Listen, we have a plan,"_ Fred told her. She could tell it was Fred by the tone he used. It was the voice of a friend, a good friend, but it didn't have the gentle caress of affection that George's did.

"_And this plan is…?"_ Hermione thought back sceptically.

"_Lavender somehow doesn't know about Ron's escapades with other women. We thought she might be overlooking it at first, but then we noticed a certain necklace around her neck…"_ George began. She sunk into the cadence of his thoughts, but almost immediately wrenched herself back out. What was wrong with her? She put it down to lack of sleep and focused on their words, Fred picking up where George had left off.

"… _which has an enchanted charm on it. We Levitated ourselves into the girls' dormitories and nicked it for a while to examine it. And turns out…"_

"… _Ron's put a charm on it so that Lavender doesn't see anything amiss when she seeing his messing around with other witches. So the plan is…"_

"… _we duplicate the necklaces with a simple Geminio, which will…"_

"… _create an exact copy, but without the charm on it, and then…"_

"…_watch as the drama unfolds," _they thought at the same time. Hermione shook her head, a bit dazed from the speed of the exchange.

"_Listen, guys," _she thought. _"This is very sweet of you, but I don't need revenge. I gave Ron a black eye when he did that to me, I'm through with him now."_

"_Aaah, Hermione, love," _George thought back to her. She shivered at his choice of words; her name sounded lovely on his tongue. Thoughts. Whatever. _"We're not asking you to participate, and we're not giving you a choice in the matter. We simply thought you deserved a bit of warning before the inevitable explosion."_

"Hermione? _Hermione!_" Ginny hissed. She kicked her shin under the table and Hermione jerked out of her thoughts.

"What?" she asked. Ginny motioned with wide eyes to Slughorn, who looked bemused.

Sheepishly, Hermione turned to her professor. "I'm sorry, Sir, I got a bit distracted… didn't sleep well last night…"

"_Thoughts of us kept you up, did they?" _asked two voices cheekily in her head. She blushed but hoped they put it down to embarrassment at disappointing a teacher.

"Right, well," Slughorn said haltingly, slightly disturbed by the level of focus, or lack thereof, his star student was showing. "I wonder if you could tell me why a Salamander scale is necessary for this potion?"

"Causes heat in the brain, and clouding of the feelings," Hermione answered promptly without thinking.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Slughorn said happily, his faith in Hermione now restored. He flicked his wand at the board and the ingredients and method appeared. Quickly scanning the list, Hermione kindled a fire under her cauldron and half-filled it with water. She then rose and went to the store cupboard, reaching for the three ingredients she didn't have in her Potions kit.

"Hippogriff talon, Salamander scale," she murmured to herself as she selected suitable pieces from the appropriate jars, "and… pomegranate juice," she said after consulting the list. She pulled a small plastic measuring cup from a stack in the corner, but could not seem the see the purple bottle. Backing up a few steps, she finally spotted it, right at the top. She prepared herself and jumped, her fingers touching the bottle but not getting a hold on it. She jumped again, unaware of a gaze of her back – or more specifically, on a patch of skin which became exposed again and again as she jumped.

Finally taking pity of her, George stood and crossed to the store cupboard. Ignoring the jolt in his stomach at the smell of her – chocolate and something citrusy – he reached up and easily grabbed the bottle, handing it to Hermione with a small smile. "Trying to get this?" he asked her. She blushed slightly, holding out the small cup. He poured out five millilitres for her and put the bottle back on the shelf.

"Shorty," he teased, standing close to her so that she had to look up to see his face. Although Fred, Charlie and George had inherited the short, stocky genes of their mother, he was still quite tall – towering over Hermione.

"I'm perfectly normal," she sniffed, heading for her table. He followed, unsure of why he was doing so but wanting to continue the conversation.

"Yeah, right. Fred and I are supposed to be the short boys of the Weasley family. If I'm this much taller than you, you must _really_ be tiny."

"I'm five foot four!" she said indignantly.

"Ginny's five foot seven," he pointed out. "She's just lucky Harry's a couple of inches taller."

He watched her tip the juice into her cauldron, stir twice and consult the method on the board again. Watched the way her brow furrowed as she squinted through the multi-coloured haze now filling the dungeon, and the way her lips pursed as she realised that she needed an extra ingredient. He'd noticed her mistake from the start and already had the necessary item in his hand. Just as she was preparing to take her place at the end of the line now forming in front of the store cupboard, he stepped in front of her, holding out his hand.

"Oh," she said, looking surprised. "Thanks, George," she said, taking the frog's eyes from his palm and dropping them into a mortar. He gave her a nod and a smile and walked away to get started on his own potion, all the while watching as she dropped in the talon, the scale and some scarabs. She cast a Shield Charm over the mortar and waved her wand at the pestle, which started grinding. The Shield Charm caught all the little bits of flying frog eyes and he found himself smiling at her foresight.

Feeling his eyes on her, she turned, only to see him dropping his own ingredients into his mortar. As he picked up the pestle, she opened her mouth to cry a warning – but it was too late. A frog eye went flying out of the bowl and hit Fred squarely on the tip of his nose. Fred threw a piece of scarab beetle at George, who threw a Shrivelfig back at his twin.

Hermione couldn't help it; she chuckled. A tiny, tinkling noise that brought all her friends to a grinding halt. Harry and Ginny dropped their pestles, the twins stopped their ingredient-throwing. Harry and Ginny gave each other identical gleeful looks and George and Fred's faces spread into identical twin grins. It had been so long since Hermione laughed that they'd almost forgotten what it sounded like.

"_If it makes you laugh, we'll have an ingredient fight every single day," _George promised through the still-open mind connection. She shivered at the sincerity in his promise and her eyes found his unerringly through the haze of colours in the room.

"_I'm sure you can think of other ways to make me laugh,"_ she thought boldly, almost forgetting that Fred could hear, too. _"But, do me a favour and close the connection?" _

"_Of course,"_ he acquiesced. She heard a tiny _zing!_ As the connection cut and a second one as Fred cut his, too. She thanked Merlin for people who respected her privacy. And then a new thought occurred to her and she aimed her wand and George, muttering, _"Pusillimi Videre." _

"_Who else have you told about this spell?"_

"_No one," _George told her, looking surprised. _"Just you."_

"_Keep it that way – people could modify it and use it to figure out peoples' secrets, and I for one don't want people knowing what happened with my p-parents," _she warned. His brow furrowed as he considered this.

"_You're right. I'll tell Fred. Thanks, Hermione."_ She ended the spell and dumped the mixture in her pestle into the purple water, sneaking glances at George every now and then, which he didn't know. What _she_ didn't know was that he was sneaking glances at her too. And something they _both_ didn't know was that a third party was watching the both of them, a small, satisfied smile on her face.

Ginny Weasley watched Hermione and George watch each other, and almost jumped for joy. Ron had been wrong for Hermione, she'd known it from the start. But George… George felt right. She turned to share this with Harry, but saw him staring at the same couple. And then she realised… he already knew.

* * *

**R&R xoxox**


	2. Chapter 2

**I have to say, I'm kind of annoyed. Nine favourites, FOURTEEN story alerts and only six of you energised yourselves enough to review? Tsk.  
But evidently, I have no willpower when it comes to people waiting for me to post.  
I know it's still Sunday in the States (lucky people) but it's Monday here, so as promised... part two of Watching. Enjoy, R&R. I hope it lives up to your expectations (if any). xoxox **

**Disclaimer (almost forgot this!): I don't own JKR's characters, settings or general plotlines. Well, actually, everything you recognise is hers. But you already know that.**

* * *

"RONALD WEASLEY!" came a very shrill screech. Lavender Brown stood in the centre of the common room, red and shaking. Ron didn't bother entangling himself from the witch who was perched on him, assuming his girlfriend was annoyed for another reason, like missing a monthsary or forgetting her birthday.

He never assumed that someone might have figured out his secret.

She never imagined that her boyfriend would cheat on her so blatantly.

Well, they both got duped.

"HAVE YOU NO _SHAME_?" she yelled. He flinched away, wondering what she was on about. The girl who was sitting on him – Alanna, he thought her name was – tried to get up but he held her down.

"What's up, Lav-Lav?" he asked as sweetly as possible. "Have I done something wrong?"

"HOW CAN YOU EVEN ASK THAT? How – you – _why_?" she trailed off, on the verge of tears. She shot a death glare at the girl sitting on top of Ron and shoved her off. "How long has this been going on, Ronald?" she asked in a deathly quiet voice. The whole of Gryffindor had gone silent to watch. "And with how many girls? And how did you fool me? Moreover, _why_? Am I not good enough? Do you simply want a reputation as a womaniser?"

Ron went deathly pale as he clocked her meaning. "Fuck," he swore.

"Yeah, that's right," Lavender snarled, her wand out and almost poking Ron between his eyes.

"Lavender, baby, we weren't seeing each other or anything, I just haven't seen you lately and wanted some fun with Alanna here…" he said, shooting a pleading look at his girlfriend (for the moment).

"Don't call me –" Lavender started, but she was cut off by the girl, who was still on the floor where Lavender had shoved her.

"Fuck you, Weasley," she snapped, pushing herself to her feet. "My name's Alison, not Alanna." She strode off to the portrait hole and it slammed shut. Lavender, who had watched her go with a disgusted expression, turned back to Ron.

"We're over, Weasley. I don't know how many girls you've done, but if you didn't know her name was Alison, you've obviously done many. And what the hell? You see me plenty. How about last night? And after Charms, in the broom closet? If you're only into stealing girls away for public snogs and quickies in unoccupied classrooms, you shouldn't have ask me out in the first place."

She turned to the remaining Gryffindor girls. "He's all yours, ladies," she said, dusting her hands together. With a kick to Ron's nether regions, she left him gasping in his chair and strode out of the common room.

Harry, Hermione, Ginny and the twins burst into applause. Several girls joined in, looking angry, but happy that Ron had finally received his comeuppance. Parvati, who had stopped in to say hi to Lavender, started clapping too on behalf of her best friend. Dean, her boyfriend, accompanied her. Red in the face, Ron stood, livid, and stepped towards Hermione. Ginny, Harry, George and Fred instantly tensed around her. She squeezed the first two hands she found and waited calmly for Ron to speak.

He didn't speak; he yelled. "What the fuck did you do to that necklace, Granger?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I didn't do anything – I'd call you Weasley but that would be an insult to your siblings," she said smoothly. Warm fingers squeezed her left hand and she grasped on tightly, glad of the pressure and warmth.

"_Nice_, Hermione," she heard Ginny say appreciatively.

Hermione felt someone rest their hands on her shoulders and peeked down. She recognised the ring on Fred's index finger and smiled. Ron was in the past; she had a new group of friends now and they suited her much better.

"How the hell can you side with her?" Ron asked incredulously. "I'm your brother!"

"Not anymore you aren't," Ginny said icily. "You gave up our family ties the second you called Hermione a slag."

"I was telling it like it is," he spat viciously, and Hermione let go of whoever was holding her right hand to whip out her wand. She took a step forward, someone still clinging to her left.

"Do you see me snogging random boys while I have a boyfriend? Do you see me living for sex? Thanks, Ron, but I'd like to think I have a life," she said snidely. He backed away from her wand tip, now starting to glow from the force of her anger. She had lost her old wand at the Malfoys' place and bought a new one, one which so thoroughly responded to her every thought and emotion that she sometimes thought that if it ever broke, she'd die. "Stay away from me, and from Harry, and from Ginny. And I don't know what the twins think, but –"

"Stay away from me, too," she heard George say from her left and realised that he was the one she was holding hands with so tightly. She didn't want to let go, so she squeezed his hand slightly in thanks.

"You might be our brother, Ron, but you've done a lot of bad stuff," Fred said from behind her.

Ron looked at the five of them, his face slowly turning an odd colour (a splotchy mix of yellow and purple, for the record). They were all… united, that's the word. They were all united against him. He looked around the common room for support, and found none. Girls were eyeing him hatefully, guys were either looking hostile or were too scared to oppose Harry and the twins. Recognising that he was alone in this, he stepped back again and turned, heading for the portrait hole.

There was a collective sigh of relief as Ron left and the five of them resumed their earlier positions; Ginny, Harry and Hermione doing homework and the twins playing Exploding Snap.

_The effects of a badly casted Elevation Charm are motion-sickness, frequent drops in height and –_

"Argh!" Hermione shrieked as the cards blew up next to her. She held up her blackened essay gingerly and turned to the guilty-looking twins.

"Erm, sorry," George said sweetly, pulling at his collar. She raised her eyebrows, giving them her best Molly Weasley look.

"You've singed my essay, boys," she said quietly.

"We'll write it out again for you?" Fred suggested, eyeing her twitching wand hand.

Hermione considered for a moment. "Yeah, that'll do," she decided. She handed the remains of what used to be a good essay to them and they set about copying the readable bits of it onto spare bits of parchment.

She couldn't help it; her lips twitched. She saw Fred's eyes narrow and started outright grinning.

"I think she's laughing at us, Forge," he whispered to his twin.

"When we're doing her homework for her, Gred? Shocking," George admonished, mockingly shaking a finger in front of her face. She laughed.

"No, it's just that… it's kind of flattering how scared you are of me and my wand. Honestly, I'm not about to blow you up just for burning my homework!"

"You aren't?" Fred asked blankly. He and George glanced at each other and immediately dropped the parchment.

"Right, then, we have other engagements," George announced, straightening his collar with a wink to Hermione. She rolled her eyes and picked up the remains of her essay, getting ready to write it down again.

"Lazy arses," she muttered. Ginny laughed. The twins climbed out of the portrait hole with waves and the trio returned to their work.

* * *

Hermione tossed and turned restlessly in her bed. The bed was too warm to sleep in, the room too cold to throw her blankets off. She tossed one leg out but withdrew it almost immediately, plagued by a foolish fear that something would grab it. She was the only one in her dorm that night, as Lavender had not returned yet. Hermione felt a bit sorry for her, but her years of disliking the girl prevented her from going and searching for her.

However, she knew it was wrong and a small voice at the back of her head nagged at her. Eventually, the voice won out and she climbed out of bed reluctantly, placing her feet gingerly on the cold floor. "Ugh," she muttered as her toes protested. "_Accio slippers!_" She pulled them on, snuggling into their warmth.

"Ginny?" she said sleepily, pushing open the door to Ginny's dorm room.

"What is it, 'Mione?" came the sleepy reply.

"We need to go find Lavender." Ginny sat up, her hair tousled and a mess of blankets on her bed. Hermione examined them, noticing the scarlet and gold.

"Did you take every blanket off every bed in this room?" she asked amusedly. Ginny shrugged.

"I was cold. Now… come on. Let's go find Lav-Lav." Ginny accio-ed herself a thick robe and some slippers and the two crept down the stairs and into the dark hallways of Hogwarts.

They checked the Transfiguration wing, the Charms classroom, the Great Hall and even ran up to Gryffindor Tower and nicked Harry's Map.

"Quick, look for her," Hermione muttered, her eyes frantically scanning the page.

"There!" Ginny exclaimed. "Oh, wait… no, that's Lester Brown."

"She's not on the Map," Hermione said, frowning. Then an idea hit her and she brightened. "Room of Requirement!"

"Right, let's go!" Ginny stood up.

"We can't. We don't know what she used to get it and we can't get in unless we say the exact same thing," Hermione reminded her. But Ginny nudged and pointed to the Map. Fred and George were pacing the in seventh floor corridor. After three rounds, they stood and walked into what looked like the wall.

"If they got in, then where's – "

Ginny pointed. Fred and George had reappeared, Lavender Brown in tow. "Okay, obviously they know something we don't," Hermione said irritably.

The two waited in silence as George, Lavender and Fred made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. They heard George saying the password quietly (_roast pumpkin_) and the portrait hole swung open.

The three of them stopped dead. Well, two of them did. Lavender, on closer inspection, looked passed out.

"She'd nicked alcohol from the house elves and was drinking herself stupid in the Room of Requirement," Fred explained. He laid the unconscious girl on the sofa and plopped down into an armchair.

"And how do you know this?" Hermione queried with raised brows.

"We saw her stumbling out of the kitchen and asked the house elves. She'd been in there with Parvati and had explained her whole plan. The house elves overheard."

"Well – we were just about to go and look for her. So thanks. Now I can go back to sleep with a clear conscience."

"Anytime, Granger," they said in unison, sending her identical salutes. She rolled her eyes and cast a Levitation charm on Lavender, following her floating body up the stairs, and laid her down on the bed. She lay down, tucked herself under the crimson duvet and closed her eyes. She waited for sleep to come to her…

And it didn't.

"Bollocks," Hermione snapped, pushing her covers off. She was too awake, after rushing through corridors in search of Lavender. Sneaking around the castle always gave her an adrenaline rush, even when she had a valid reason to.

She stared into the flames, willing them to enter her body and warm her up. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, attempting to warm herself up with the friction, and shot a spell at the fire to make it blaze higher. She was shivering so much, she didn't hear the quiet footsteps until George was right behind her. He sat on the floor behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"George! Don't sneak up on me like that!" she whisper-shouted, but he only grinned, making her heart flip over and warming her to the core, something the fire had been unable to do thus far.

However, she was still cold and he took to rubbing her arms to warm her up. Since her hands were already frozen and his were warm, he did the job a lot better than she had and she was soon comfortable. She leaned back into his arms slightly and they twined around her. Sleep was starting to overcome her, so she didn't protest when George began nuzzling her neck.

He, however, knew exactly what he was doing, and with a sigh, he gave in to the pestering of his moral compass. _Hermione's evidently too sleepy to think clearly, and you shouldn't take advantage of her,_ it told him. Scowling, he removed his arms from around her. She let out a small sound of complaint from the loss of warmth and wriggled around to face him, her eyes half-lidded from sleep.

"Can you walk to your dorm, Hermione?" he asked her softly. He tried not to look at her lips, those soft, pink, perfectly curving little lips. He wasn't sure he could stop himself from kissing her.

"No. Sleepy," she murmured, pulling at his shirt. He leaned forward obligingly and she fell asleep against his chest, a small smile on her face.

"Now what do I do?" George asked himself.

"Stop talking, maybe?" Hermione suggested groggily. He jumped; he'd thought she was already asleep.

"No, just getting there," she told him. He furrowed his brow, before realising that he must have said that last part aloud. She raised her head to look at him, her eyes (today a rich, chocolate brown) darting around his face, finally focusing on his lips.

"George – "

But he couldn't take it anymore. He took her face gently in his hands and pressed his lips to hers softly, in the most gentle and tender of kisses. She tasted like mint and strawberry and he couldn't get enough. He pulled back to look in her eyes before kissing her again, one hand at the small of her back and the other tangled in her hair.

"Mmh – George," she moaned softly before kissing him again.

However, his moral compass could not be ignored. _Curse me and my damn ethics!_ George thought angrily to himself as he reluctantly pulled back. He surveyed her, her tangled chestnut locks and half-shut eyes, lips slightly swollen from the kissing. She looked delicious, and he couldn't resist swooping in for another quick kiss before pulling her up into his arms. He carried her princess-style up the stairs and into his dorm, trying not to stare too much at what she was wearing under the robe. _And she's supposed to be smart? Wearing a tank top and shorts in the dead of winter, honestly. _He shook his head and laid her on his bed, pulling the covers over her softly. Unconsciously, she snuggled into the warmth and he watched with a tender smile on his face.

Transfiguring a nearby cushion into a mattress, pillows and blanket, he settled down for the night.

* * *

He was woken up very roughly by Fred, who shook him until his arm automatically rose to smack his twin across the face.

"Ow," he muttered, rubbing his cheek.

"It's totally your fault," George said sleepily. "What the hell, Fred? It's only eight!"

"I had an idea for a product and I wanted to tell you and I opened your hangings to find…" he trailed off and George blushed. He rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head with a groan.

"Tell me later, Fred. Want… to… shlee-" the rest of his sentence was cut off by a monstrous yawn and Fred shook his head in amusement.

George heard Fred mutter, "_Evanesco,_" but the implications of it only hit him when his blanket disappeared, exposing him to the cold air of the room. He rolled over, curling up to try and preserve body heat and glared at his twin. Fred's eyebrows had risen so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his shaggy ginger hair. George knew what he was asking, but due to his rude awakening, he wasn't feeling too compliant.

Eyes almost popping from the suspense, Fred finally caved. "So why is she here?" he asked desperately.

"You're _really_ bad at curbing your curiosity, aren't you?" George asked, enjoying torturing his brother immensely. He lazily Vanished his bedding and mattress, grabbing a shirt, jeans and underwear from a drawer and heading for the bathroom.

"George!" Fred called out urgently. "Please!"

"Shh!" George exclaimed, frantically motioning to the bed where the sleeping witch lay.

"Right, sorry," Fred apologised. "How did she end up in here? You went down, supposedly to get a cupcake from the kitchens and I fell asleep waiting. And the next morning, I woke up to her. Which wasn't a bad thing, admittedly," he confessed. "She should wear flannel robes more often, if that's what she hides under them. Did you see the way her tank top –"

"Yes, well," George interrupted, blushing. He had indeed noticed the tank top and the way it stretched slightly over a certain area. "I _did _go down for a cupcake but Hermione was there by the fire, trying to warm up. I helped her warm up – oh shut up, not like that," George snapped, blushing as Fred suggestively waggled his eyebrows, "and then she sort of started falling asleep on me. I tried to get her up to her own dorm but she turned around to face me and…" George pulled at his collar uncomfortably. "She looked so _damn_ kissable. I had to." Fred's eyebrows had now truly disappeared into his fringe and George, in a small part of his mind, wondered if they would reappear. This question was answered almost immediately, however, when the two ginger brows descended, drawing together in a slight frown.

"D'you think she'll remember?"

"I don't know," George admitted. "I hope she does, yet at the same time I hope the opposite. I have no idea how _she_ feels, so if she doesn't feel the same thing, then…"

"Just give it a shot, mate," Fred advised. "Rejection is a risk all blokes take when they ask a bird out. If she says no… you'll move on eventually," he said sagely. George glanced at his twin in surprise. When had he become so wise?

"Thanks, mate," he said gratefully, clicking open the door to the bathroom. "If Hermione wakes up, let her know what she's doing in our dorm, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," Fred waved off George's concerns and went back to detailing their latest product on a scrap of parchment. As he added the finishing line about seven minutes later, he stood and crossed to an overloaded corkboard hanging on the opposite wall. And just as he did so, he heard Hermione stirring. He held on for a minute before talking, wishing that George would just come out of the bathroom.

"Morning, Hermione," he said awkwardly. He heard a gasp from behind the curtain it was pushed aside, a very shocked Hermione looking out from it.

"…Fred?" she said, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. "What the hell am I doing in your room?"

"Erm," he began, but was saved by the sight of George walking out of the bathroom shirtless, drying his hair with a towel. It stood up in messy spikes, and Fred had to admit that even with the missing ear, his twin was pretty darn good-looking sometimes – at least in Hermione's view, he noted with a small smile, watching a rosy blush spread through her cheeks.

"Right, I'm heading to breakfast," Fred announced. "Hermione, George will enlighten you as to how exactly you ended up here." He sped out of the room, leaving the two of them alone in the room.

"Erm," George said awkwardly. "I'm not sure how much you remember of last night," he began, but was cut off by Hermione.

"I remember _everything_," she interrupted, and there was a kind of fire in her eyes that he had never seen before.

And it was true, she did remember everything. The way his kisses had sent fire coursing through her veins, his hands tracing a burning paths along her spine. The only thing she didn't remember was –

"I must have fallen asleep… you carried me up here?" He nodded and she stood gracefully, sending him a beam of thanks. His breath caught and he ran a hand through his hair.

"You didn't have to," she told him. "I'm not exactly lightweight."

"Please," he scoffed. "I could carry five of you just as easily. If anything, you're underweight," he said seriously, looking at her carefully.

Looking at his well-muscled body, honed from Quidditch and lifting supplies in the store, she had to agree that yes, he probably could carry five of her. She blushed as she realised she was staring and she looked around for her shoes, finding them under the bed. She slipped them on and padded to the door.

"Thanks for everything, George," she said sweetly, and put her hand on the doorknob.

"Wait, Hermione, we need to talk abou-" he was cut off by the door closing and he groaned in frustration. He resumed towelling his hair dry and slipped on a shirt and his red-and-gold tie, slinging his robes on over the top.

Reaching the common room, he looked all around for Hermione, just in time to see a mass of brown ringlets disappearing through the portrait hole. He lunged forward but was blocked by Lee, who'd been in the Owlery, talking to Alicia.

"George, mate, I got Alicia to go out with me!" Lee said excitedly. Although part of him still wanted to chase after Hermione, this new development was too much to resist.

Lee had been chasing Angelina second till fifth year. After he'd finally clocked that Angelina was into Fred, he'd moved on, and soon taken a liking to Alicia Spinnet, who'd been rejecting him for three years straight. There were plenty of girls who were into Lee, but he seemed to only want to follow those who weren't interested.

"That's brilliant, mate!" George said brightly, happy for his friend. "Hogsmeade weekend, I suppose?"

"Not even going to wait for that!" exclaimed Lee. "We thought we'd make it a triple thing, you know, Fred with Angie, me and Alicia and as soon as Hermione agrees, we'll sneak out."

"What – I – Hermione – _huh_?" George spluttered.

"Close your mouth, mate, I can see your tonsils," Lee advised. "You remember a couple nights back, when Fred asked how long you had liked Hermione and said that I was asleep?"

"Yeah," George said, already knowing what Lee was going to say next.

"I wasn't asleep." George groaned, thumping his fist into his forehead.

"I should have known," he said, shaking his head. "Did Fred know?"

"No. I had my eyes closed and my back turned. He wouldn't have known."

George sighed. "Fine. It's fine. Just… don't drop hints to her or anything, okay? I don't want to scare her."

"Don't want to scare who?" a new voice asked, breaking into the conversation.

"Oh, no," George muttered, turning to face his sister, who had a small, knowing smile on her face. "You know too, don't you?"

"It wasn't all that hard to figure out," she said with a roll of her eyes. "In Potions yesterday… those mind conversations… sneaky glances… even Harry figured it out without me telling him!"

"Harry knows!" George yelped.

"I know what?" Harry asked, coming up behind Ginny and taking her hand.

"That George fancies Hermione," both Lee and Ginny told him.

"Oh, yeah, it was easy to figure out!" Harry exclaimed. "Even Dean and Parvati asked if you two were together yet."

"And how do _they_ know?" George asked tiredly. This was getting a bit old.

"How do we know what?" came Parvati's voice from the side. She and Dean strolled up and looked at George questioningly.

"That I fancy Hermione," George muttered, blushing.

"Well, it was obvious by the way you two were holding hands yesterday," Dean explained.

"She let go of Harry's hand halfway in but she kept holding yours," Parvati finished.

"So… what are you guys saying?" George asked, brow furrowed as he replayed the conversation.

"Ask her out and see what happens?" Lee suggested.

"Yeah, what the worst that could happen?" Ginny wanted to know.

"The worst that could happen is that she could reject you, in which case you could either give it up or ask her again and again until she cracks," Angelina said from behind him, Alicia in tow.

"Merlin, they know too?" he moaned to Lee. He looked apologetic. "Sorry, mate. Ran into them in the Owlery and couldn't help myself."

"Right, I'm _never_ telling you anything important again. _Ever_."

"So will you ask her?" Harry said to me. He frowned, thinking for a moment.

"Yeah, I'll ask her," he decided, and smiled broke out on the faces of everyone around him.

"Ask who what?" Hermione asked from behind him. He whipped around and saw her threading through the group. People mysteriously started to vanish; Harry and Ginny stating that they needed to do their homework; Parvati and Dean saying they needed to visit the Astronomy Tower ( he did _not_ want to know that) and Lee, Angelina and Alicia melting away saying something about Exploding Snap.

"George?" she asked, moving closer.

"Uhh… yeah?" he said, slightly dazed.

"Did you eat breakfast?"

_What?_ "Erm… n-no," he stuttered. He hadn't been expecting the question.

"Here," she said, handing him a piece of toast. "I didn't see you in the Great Hall so I brought you some toast." He took it from her fingers and took a small bite, watching her face as he swallowed.

"Thanks, 'Mione."

"You're very welcome," she replied with a smile, and turned to walk away.

"Wait!" he said, grabbing her hand. She looked back at him questioningly. "D'you… do you want to go for a walk?" he asked haltingly. Her answering smile was brilliant.

"I'd love to." Fighting a manically happy grin, he opened the portrait hole for her and she stepped through. The two of them walked in relative silence to the doors and he pulled them open, both of them stepping into the sunlight.

The day was brilliant; how had George not noticed it before? The surface of the Black Lake was absolutely calm and still, and reflected the colour of the sky – a deep, cornflower blue unlike anything he had ever seen before.

He took her hand, and she jumped in surprise, but didn't let go. Looking at the Quidditch pitch, she commented, "I've never been able to fly. Heights scare me. I don't know how you can possibly fly and hit Bludgers at the same time."

It took a minute for him to focus on her words; he was too busy staring at the strands of gold in her hair, glinting in the sunlight.

"Did you know your hair turns gold in the sunlight?" he asked suddenly, and her eyebrows rose.

"No, I didn't," she said in surprise. She held a strand of hair up to the light, examining the shining lock. He watched her, her slim wrist and petite hand. Unable to stay still, he took her hand again and walked with her to the Lake. The heat of the day began to tell on George and he tugged on her hand until she looked up at him.

"Do you want to swim?" he asked her.

"No," she smiled, "But I'll watch you, you go ahead and swim."

"But whyyy?" he whinged, pulling her closer to the edge of the lake. She mumbled something and he leaned closer, asking her to repeat it.

"I can't swim."

"Oh." George was momentarily stumped before an idea hit him. "This is the perfect day to learn, then!" he cried, tugging his shirt off. He noticed the way her eyes lingered on his chest and smirked to cover the heat rising in his body.

"Like what you see, 'Mione?"

"No," she sniffed. One of his eyebrows lifted in disbelief.

"No?" he asked sadly.

"No," she told him firmly, the beginnings of a smile gracing her features.

"Pouts don't work on me, George," she told him, not even needing to look. He dropped it and laughed. How she seemed to know everything, he would never know. "I was just thinking…" she started, and George looked at her curiously.

"What?" he asked.

"I was thinking that… had I admitted it to anyone else – that I can't swim – they'd have been shocked. It's nice, you know, to be considered human. You took it in stride. There are definitely things that I don't know how to do, and it's a refreshing change for someone to accept that."

"Really?" George frowned. "I thought you found it flattering?"

"From time to time, yes. But it gets tiring after a while. I'm only human, after all," she explained.

"I know how you feel, I'm rather brilliant myself," he told her, puffing up his chest. She socked him in the stomach and his breath whooshed out of him, partly because he was laughing and partly because… well, she really had hit hard. She blushed at she realised that she had hit bare skin and pulled her hand back.

"Do you want me to talk to them about it?" he asked her on a more serious note, ignoring the blush in a rare moment of pity.

"No, it's fine. I mean, I don't mind it. Just… there are odd days when I just feel like being normal. If it gets worse, I'll talk to them myself," she promised.

George looked back at the Black Lake (a misnomer as the lake was currently blue) and remembered why his shirt was off. "So you're sure you don't want to join me?"

"I will, someday. Just… not today. I don't feel like being cold and wet on such a lovely day." Grinning, she picked a flower and Transfigured it into a giant white cushion. She plopped down on it, watching George as he dove into the lake, his toned body cutting into the water smoothly.

She remembered the previous night with absolute clarity, but she was hesitant to bring it up. What if George, addled by sleep, had regretted kissing her? Settling down to watch him diving and turning somersaults in the water, she decided to let _him_ bring it up.

Enjoying the way the water glinted off his skin, she admired him as he dived, and waited for him to resurface.

And waited.

And waited.

At least five minutes had gone by, and she severely doubted that George could hold his breath so long. Who knew what horrors lay in the lake? The Giant Squid, Mermaids, Grindylows, strange magical creatures… Grindylows!

Hermione panicked, throwing herself back into the memory of Professor Lupin teaching the class how to get rid of a Grindylow. _"Do not panic, for it shows weakness, which Grindylows thrive on. Aim your wand at a point on the Grindylow and calmly utter, 'Repellus Grindylow'."_

And now, all that was left was to dive. She looked down into the blue water, wondering how deep it was. She waded in until the water reached her neck, cast a Bubble-Head charm and submerged. Unsure of what to do, she kicked out with her legs slightly as she had seen others do, and pushed her arms out to the sides and back. She cut through the water slowly, but surely. Terrified, continuously seeing strange shapes in the murky water, the only thought that kept her going was that George was in danger. _He had his wand,_ she reasoned, trying to keep calm as the currents rocked her back and forth.

And then she saw a shock of flaming red hair and her heart rate stuttered and picked up again. It seemed to beat to a whole new rhythm while George was around and she felt herself swimming faster in time to its violent tattoo.

He was in an odd position, almost standing, looking down at the lake floor. Seeing no Grindylows in the vicinity, she scanned the ground – and gasped, tears filling her eyes.

HERMIONE GRANGER

WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?

Wrote the line of stones on the muddy lake floor. And just at that moment, George turned, and saw her.

He was using the Bubble-Head charm too, and while it made him look like he was wearing a fishbowl on his head, it did nothing to diminish his good looks. He grinned at her uncertainly, the flash of his white teeth visible even from where Hermione floated. He came towards her, a question in his eyes.

She watched the way he moved, strong, capable hands pushing him through the water, legs honed through running around a Quidditch pitch, his wet jeans clinging to him. Just the right amount of muscle, not too much and not too little.

He was perfection itself, and she wanted every part of it. She looked at the message again, and back at him, nodding wordlessly. His face broke out into a smile and he took her hands, swimming back to the surface with her. The bubbles popped as they broke the surface and they turned to one another, still bobbing up and down in the water. She lifted her hand and messed up his wet hair, which was a darker colour than usual from the water, and slowly spiked it into a Mohawk. He couldn't help but stare at her lips and he took her hand, stopping its work on his hair. Her lips parted slightly as she looked up at him, and it was all the permission he needed.

His lips crashed down on hers and she kissed back hungrily, the Mohawk ruined as her fingers ran through his hair, tugging slightly. It tasted like lakewater and toast and it was so imperfectly perfect that they never wanted it to end.

George broke away first, gasping for air, before catching Hermione's lips in a another sweet kiss. He pulled her to shore and cast a drying charm on the two of them, sticking her wand in her back pocket for her.

"Moody would have had a fit if he saw you do that," Hermione laughed. "He was always convinced that someone would blow their buttocks off."

"Paranoid, that one," George commented as they headed back up to the castle.

"Oh, this is going to cause a riot!" Hermione chuckled, pushing open the doors to the school.

"Lucky half the students aren't here," George replied.

"You fan club's still here, though," Hermione reminded him, glowering slightly at the thought of Romilda Vane and her posse.

"Who formed it, anyway?" he asked her curiously.

"Romilda, I guess. I don't know, I was never really interested," Hermione told him with a wink and a nudge.

"Good, because I don't like any of those fangirls. They hang around me like flies."

"Incoming!" Hermione warned as she spotted one of Romilda's friends, Lacy, coming down the marble staircase. George latched onto Hermione's hand with lightning speed and Lacy, who had been looking enterprising, cast him a sad look. And when she thought George wasn't looking, she glared at Hermione.

Hermione held back the temptation to snort, just until Lacy had gone around the corner, at which point she burst into peals of laughter, echoing down the near-empty corridors. George watched her, bemused.

"Aren't you supposed to get jealous and make death threats?" he asked quizzically.

"Oh, please," Hermione giggled, clutching onto George's arm for support. "She's been after you for years and you haven't reacted, I don't think there's any danger. And plus, she's a total ditz. Not your type at all."

He laughed at her boldness and tweaked her chin. "And what exactly is my type?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"Hmm…" he considered. "Someone _smart_," he began with a small smirk. "Someone who doesn't mind breaking rules occasionally." She smirked at that one. "Someone who has a life outside of gossip and appearances."

"Wow, that's tough," she teased. "I can't think of a single girl in Hogwarts who could fit that criteria!"

"Oh, I'm not even done yet," he told her, pulling us to a stop just outside the Fat Lady. "You know the last thing I look for in a girl?" she waited. So did the Fat Lady. "Someone who's beautiful both on the outside _and_ the inside." She blushed and looked down at her feet, but his finger came under her chin, pulling her face up so that he could meet her eyes. "That's you, Hermione, and whatever Ron says, I know you're one of the most pure, loving people I've ever met." He stroked her cheek and kissed her softly. As they broke apart, the Fat Lady sighed.

"Oh, what I wouldn't give to have a man say that to me!" she cried, wiping away a fake tear.

"I'm sure someone will one day," Hermione told her sweetly. The Fat Lady smiled and swung open. "But… I didn't give you the password," Hermione said, confused.

"Oh, I'll let it go, just this once," the Fat Lady said with a watery smile. As the two stepped through the portrait hole, George mouthed the word 'mental' at Hermione. Smacking his arm and laughing, she looked around until she spotted three very recognisable heads of hair, one black and two fiery red. Fingers intertwined, she and George made their way over to the trio, who looked up as they approached.

"Finally grew a pair and asked her out, eh, George?" Fred said with a smirk. George shot him a look and his smirk grew into a full-blown grin.

"How did he do it?" Ginny asked Hermione.

"Wait, you knew? They _knew_?" she asked George accusingly.

"Well… yeah," George said uncomfortably, waiting for the explosion.

It never came. "Oh. Well, I'm glad they didn't tell me. I would have had to wait in suspense for that much longer." He sighed in relief, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"So?" Ginny pressed, and Hermione realised she had never answered the question.

"He tricked me into swimming and then on the bottom of the lake –" but she cut herself off as she noticed that she longer had her audience's attention. Ginny's eyes were wide, focused on something or someone a little behind Hermione. She spun around in alarm, wand out, and then instinctively stepped closer to George when she saw him. His arm tightened around her waist as he gave his youngest brother a stony look.

"Back off, Ron," he warned, sensing Fred, Harry and Ginny stand.

"No, I…" he paused, as if he found the words distasteful. "I came to apologise. To all of you. I know I've been a right prat lately," he continued with more confidence. Hermione clutched onto George's hand and he squeezed back lightly.

"That you have, little brother," Fred confirmed. Ginny's sour expression did not waver.

"I don't really know what I was doing. I – I wanted attention, I suppose. And I wanted action. I knew that, being Harry Potter's best friend, I would get it. I was –"

"A sex-driven, loathsome little critter?" George asked.

Ron looked down. "Yeah."

"A disgusting, perverted playboy?" Harry suggested.

He gulped slightly. "Yes."

"A stinking, using, power-abusing, spoilt, attention-seeking, foolish git?" Ginny snarled.

Ron sighed. "Yeah. All of that." Hermione stepped a bit closer, still maintaining her grip on George's hand.

"You've done a lot of bad things, and the others may forgive you, but I can't. Not so easily." Ron's face fell, and Hermione immediately felt guilty.

"But –" she continued, and he looked up hopefully. "It's a start," she said, with a tentative attempt at a smile. His answering grin was hopeful and happy and he stepped forward to sweep Harry into a hug. Relieved that his best friend had seen the light, he hugged back tightly and they broke apart grinning.

"I don't know if you guys will forgive me," he said to his siblings, who were expressionless. "But I'd do anything to get you to."

Their faces softened slightly and they pulled Ron into a Weasley family hug, which although was short, was the beginning or a reconciliation. Looking past his siblings, he saw Hermione standing behind George, watching the people she had come to call her family with an affectionate smile on her face. He broke out of the hug and held out his arms a bit, giving her a chance to refuse.

But she looked at George, Harry, Ginny and Fred and thought about the seven years of friendship that her heart couldn't let her forget, and she stepped into Ron's embrace, feeling George holding her hand tightly, tethering her to what promised to be a happy future. And with Ron back in it, things suddenly seemed a lot more hopeful. "Welcome back, Ron," she told him as she broke away. George wound his arms around her and Ron surveyed the two of them.

"Thanks, 'Mione. You don't know how much that means to me. And for what it's worth," he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "I think you two will make a much better pair than we ever would have." She turned her head slightly to meet George's gaze and he kissed her softly, not caring about the circle of friends around them.

As the group settled into armchairs and sofas, Hermione curled up next to George on the floor beside the fire. She stared unabashedly, watching the way the light of the flames made his hair burn an even brighter red, if possible. He stared back, noticing the warm, rich chocolate of her eyes. Their friends, although chatting amongst themselves, watched the couple out of the corners of their eyes.

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other and this time, they were thinking exactly the same thing. Hermione had finally found happiness after the heartbreak her parents and Ron had caused her. And George had found his balance, the one person who could control the pranks yet give him enough freedom that he would never get bored.

As they drew their eyes away from each other, they both became aware of the hairs prickling on the backs of their necks. They turned in unison, just in time to see an avidly staring Harry and Ginny turn away. Hermione turned to whisper in George's ear (the good one) and he leaned closer to listen.

"We've been playing a game of watching, George, and everyone noticed except for us."

"Well, I'm glad they saw sense," he told her affectionately, ruffling her hair.

"Me too," she smiled, and settled down to watch the friends who had brought them together. Her family.

Things were looking up at last.

* * *

**R&R xo Tara**


End file.
